Death’s Excellent Vacation (Sookie Stackhouse #9.5)(40)
Author: Charlaine Harris

Chapter Twenty-three

Three

HE tried not to stare when she walked up to his spiritual paraphernalia store window and stopped. Her gaze was fastened to the silver objects that glittered in the late-afternoon sun. Golden-rose light spilled over her warm brown skin and caught in her freefall of shoulder-length braids. Her yellow tank top clung, giving his imagination help as his gaze slid down her curvy frame . . . He just wished she would step back so he could also see her legs. But he didn’t dare move, lest he frighten her away. Maybe, if God was listening to quick prayers, she’d come into the store. He’d never seen her around New Orleans before, and she didn’t have the carefree look of a college student on break or the relaxed vibration of a tourist. Her pretty face was cast over with anxiety, her eyes holding a hungry quality of someone hunting for something but not sure what. "Justin, " his grandmother called out from the back of the store just as the pretty woman in the window looked up. He hadn’t realized that he’d nearly been in a trance until he heard his name. But now as a pair of gorgeous, intense dark brown eyes studied him, he couldn’t move or speak. "Justin! Do you hear me calling you, son?" "Yeah, Grand . . . " But the moment he turned his head to answer and looked back, the girl was gone. Panic shot through him, although he wasn’t sure why. He’d seen beautiful women before, but this one . . . There was something he couldn’t place his finger on, something surreal about her. Justin rounded the counter and raced across the floor, glad that at this late hour all his usual customers were gone. The mystery woman had just gone down the block a little ways, and he jogged to catch up to her, admiring how her shorts hugged her round, tight butt from behind. Her legs were killer, too. Although she couldn’t have been more than five foot six, her legs seemed like they belonged to a much taller woman. He didn’t want to be rude or offend her by just calling out to her; his intention was to get close enough to speak. But she rounded on him so fast and with so much attitude that for a second he was at a loss for words. "Get out of my face, " she said with a frown. "I did not come to New Orleans for no mess. " He held his hands up in front of his chest. "I just saw you looking in the store window for something that we mighta had, then you walked away. All I wanted to do was see if I could help you. Dang . . . My bad. " "Oh, " she said with a lot less venom. "I’m sorry. I just don’t like guys I don’t know running up on me in the street . . . And I’ve been looking all over for a shop that my momma used to come to when she was alive, but I can’t find it. She never came back after the storm, but I was hoping I could remember where it was. " Justin nodded. "A lot of places didn’t reopen after Katrina . . . And sorry about your momma. " "Thanks, " Jessica said quietly. "It’s cool. It’s been a couple of years. " "But you never get used to losing your momma, " he said, looking at her and studying her face. "Justin, " he said in a gentle tone. "The name’s Justin. " He extended his hand for Jessica and she took it, shaking it quickly and then letting it go. "I’m Jessica, but my friends call me Jess. " She hugged herself. He had a strange feeling as he stared at her. She seemed disoriented and a little confused, the same way people look when they’re trying too hard to remember a name or to recall something they’ve forgotten. "You know, this heat out here ain’t no joke, " he said after a moment. "Why don’t you come back down the street and soak up some air-conditioning while I see if we have the stuff you would’ve gotten in the other store. " "Okay, thanks, " she said quietly, tilting her head as she spoke. "Yeah, maybe the heat is throwing me off. " She’d never felt like this in her life, had never been so blind to another person’s thoughts. He gave her an inquisitive look along with a brilliant smile, then turned to head back toward his store. She kept her arms hugging her midsection, nursing the mild current of excitement that flowed from his hand into hers from just a touch. He was talking to her but she was only half listening, her mind trying desperately to sort out a hundred random thoughts at once. Lost in her own thoughts, she tuned in to the slightly musty male scent that wafted off his body. His skin was the coppery hue that told her he had to be Creole. Beneath his bright white T-shirt she could see an extensive network of toned muscles. He was not too bulky . . . Lanky was how she’d describe him– and utterly delicious. The guy easily loping beside her was a full head taller than she was, maybe more, which made him approximately six two. However, what really captured her attention were his eyes. They were golden amber brown, as though someone had splashed fine gold glitter into the dark hazel of them. He was clean shaven and had a beautiful, full mouth–a mesmerizing one that made her stare at it from the corner of her eye. He’d locked his hair and had it tied back in a long ponytail, but ringlets of silky black curls had escaped the stylistic invasion. The tone of his voice was a melodic alto, and before long she realized that tiny butterflies had escaped to flutter around in her belly. But it disturbed her that she couldn’t hear his thoughts. Jessica forced her gaze to the ground as he opened the store’s front door. Cool air assaulted her, and she had to admit that it felt really good. "Okay, so, what are you looking for that you couldn’t see from out there?" "Uhmmm . . . You’re going to think I’m crazy, " she began slowly, hoisting her crocheted handbag higher up on her shoulder. "No judgments when people ask for stuff in my store. Just tell me what you want, and if I have it, you’ve got it. If not, I can get it. " It was hard to look at him and make words come out of her mouth at the same time. He didn’t seem that much older than she was, and he owned a store? "This must take a lot of work, " she said, changing the subject until she could work up the nerve to explain why she was really there. She’d expected to find an old crone minding the occult shop, not some hunk with a gorgeous smile. "It does, " he said with a casual shrug. "But I have to do something to keep the bills paid while I go to school at night– I’m taking up business marketing and management, entrepreneurship track. Tuition over at Xavier is hefty, but I’m not complaining. "

"That’s really cool . . . Being able to run your own business, even in this economy, and still go to school. I’ve been saving for four years to try to go . . . But I’m definitely going to register this fall. " Her honest comment seemed to make him stand up taller. "That’s good, real good. Don’t give up on your dreams. I only got a leg up with a store because Mom and Grand used to do psychic readings in here . . . But after Mom passed, Grand didn’t wanna see no more, so she gave me her part and said sell it. I couldn’t bear to do that, so I rebuilt it. " Jessica opened and closed her mouth. "Your mom was a psychic, too. " "Wait . . . Your mom had the gift?" Justin just stared at her, gaping. Jessica nodded as he laughed and walked in a tight circle with his hands on top of his head. "That is too deep, " he said, laughing. She smiled and nodded. "Yeah–ain’t it just?" "Are you gonna fill that young lady’s order, son, or spend an hour telling her all our family bizness?" Jessica and Justin turned at the sound of the elderly woman’s voice, and after a moment, a bent figure parted the green-glass beaded curtains that led to the back rooms. The short brown-skinned matron was draped in a multicolored crocheted shawl. Deep lines were etched into sagging, leathery skin, but her eyes still sparkled with a mysterious golden amber hue that seemed to take years off her age. "This is Grand, " Justin said with a patient smile. "Ma’am, " Jessica said, giving the older woman respect in the way that would have done her mother proud. Justin’s grandmother gave a little snort of annoyance and came up to Jessica, peering at her with suspicion. "You’s pretty enough, " she said with a half smile that could have easily been mistaken for a scowl. "Thank you, ma’am, " Jessica said shyly, not sure why this old woman made her so nervous. "Don’t need ta thank me–thank the Good Lord for the way He blessed ya. Now whatchu want with my Justin?" "Grand, please don’t start, " Justin said quickly. "The young lady didn’t come in here for all of that, she just came in here to- -" "I know what she came in here fer, " Grand said in a peevish tone, folding her arms over her bony chest. "Maybe I should go, " Jessica mumbled and then turned to leave. "It was nice to meet y’all. " "See, that’s the problem with young folks. " Grand let out a little grunt. "You’s too fast to jump to conclusions. I said I know why you came in here, sugah. Open up that bag of yours and let’s talk plain. " Jessica turned around to look at the old lady. "I know you got some serious hardware in there. Gonna take a coupla days to get bullets made for it. But’chu gonna need more than that to go after what’s down in Johnson’s Bayou. " Jessica remained very, very still. She and Justin stared at Justin’s grandmother, slack-jawed. "After what happened to my Lula, I didn’t wanna see no mo’, but that don’t mean I cain’t see. " Grand lifted her chin and narrowed her gaze on Jessica. "But you too young to be throwing your gift away by trying to go git yo’self kilt. " Moving to the store counter, Jessica set her crocheted bag down on it and slowly extracted her father’s old service revolver. Justin looked at the gun; Grand just shook her head. "So, you’s fixin’ to go into the bayou . . . All by your lonesome and handle up a whole pack of lukegaroos? Girl, you plum lost your natural mind. " "Whoa, whoa, whoa. " Justin rounded the counter and stared at the gun for a few seconds, then looked at Jessica. "Tell me that isn’t the plan, because if it is, I’m not making you silver anything, let alone bullets. " "Okay, fine, " Jessica said, growing annoyed. What business was it of theirs what she’d planned to do? But the old lady had said pack, as in more than a few like she’d imagined–that was her idea of a pack, but the old lady made it sound as though there were way more than that . . . She’d also acknowledged that there were werewolves out there. Grand scoffed, picking up on Jessica’s thoughts. "You ain’t crazy, chile–not for knowing what ate up them people on the news. What makes you crazy as a bedbug is trying to go after what kilt my Lula all by yourself. " "Grand, we are not going into that, " Justin said, frowning. "Boy, I used to change your diapers, so don’t you sass me!" Grand fussed as she pointed a gnarled finger at Jessica.